With a bitter cry Mary threw herself upon her mother's grave, and wept for a long, long time.
"It would not be so bad," said Mary, "if there was any body left, but I am all alone in the world.

Ella does not love me--nobody loves me." It was in vain that Jenny told her of Billy Bender's love, of her own, and George Moreland's too.

Mary only wept the more, wishing that she had died, and Allie too.

At last remembering that she had left Sal Furbush behind her, and knowing that it was time for her to go, she arose, and leaning on Jenny, whose arm was passed lovingly about her, she started to return.
Afternoon service had commenced ere they reached the church, and as Mary had no desire of again subjecting her bonnet to the ridicule of Rose Lincoln, and as Jenny had much rather stay out doors in the shade, they sat down upon the steps, wondering where Sal Furbush had taken herself.

"I mean to look in and see if she is here," said Jenny, and advancing on tiptoe to the open door, she cast her eye over the people within; then clapping her hand over her mouth to keep back a laugh, she returned to Mary, saying, "Oh, if it isn't the funniest thing in the world.